The Shades of Time and Memory

by Storm Constantine

  “Thiede summoned me,” Cal said. “I couldn't refuse. You must have heard that.”

  “I heard it. Does that mean I believe it? I don't know. I suppose I should have known Thiede would be involved. Even beyond this world, he works to keep us apart.”

  “That's wrong,” Cal said. “It's time for you to see the bigger picture, Pell. It's not always just about you. Thiede knew what was going to happen. He trained me to help deal with it. If he hadn't, Ponclast could be redecorating Phaonica by now.”

  “Why keep me out of it? Why all the secrecy?”

  “You're too public. You had your job to do, mine was different. I could do it because I'm not the face you are. The Hegemony needed you more than they needed me. You must be able to see the sense in that.”

  Pellaz stared at Cal, unblinking. “Who did you meet for dinner that night, just before Rue was attacked? Who is Thiede's agent? Is it anyhar I know?”

  Cal was silent for a moment. “I can't tell you.”

  “Orien died for a similar silence.”

  “I know. You'll be told soon, though. Thiede should have more freedom of movement now, at least for a while. He will tell you.”

  Pellaz briefly closed his eyes. “What are we doing, Cal? What was it all about?”

  “Lianvis had it pretty much right.”

  “You've spoken to him?”

  “Extensively over the past couple of days. I don't know if he's changed or I have, but I like him a lot now. He'll be a useful ally.”

  Pellaz laughed in a choked manner. “Do you intend just to walk back in here and try to take up where you left off?”

  “It is my job. The Hegemony can't exactly sack me, not now. They're not stupid. I did my bit in Megalithica. They know that. I made sure they knew. Lianvis backed me. He made it clear he'd be happy to deal with me in a diplomatic sense. I'm his Gelaming of choice, apparently.”

  “You have secured your boundaries, then?”

  “Oh, yes,” Cal said. “Count on it. At least, politically. The rest...” He shrugged. “That's up to you.”

  “The Hegemony wanted to replace you, but I expect you know that.”

  “Yes. Ponclast told me actually. Was that your suggestion?”

  “No. I tried to fight against circumstances, but it was pointless. Some things are just meant to be.”

  Cal nodded distractedly. “We all have our Terzians, I suppose.”

  “Hardly. This was more of a Panthera. You remember him, surely, your little lapdog? The one who almost took my place, until you came here and threw Thiede out into the void. Only, like with Orien, you got away with that too, and now you and Thiede are big friends. How convenient. I wonder what Panthera's doing now?”

  Cal rubbed his face with both hands. “This isn't getting us anywhere, Pell.”

  “Then stop bitching. Are you jealous?”

  “Hell yes! You could take aruna with a hundred hara and not one of them would matter. I'd cheer from the fucking sidelines. But this was different, wasn't it?”

  Pellaz was silent for a moment. “He's kept away. You know why? Because of you. He'll step out of it now, Cal. That's the way he is. He'd never try to fight you for me, or even beg and plead with me. It's called integrity, or nobility, or something...”

  “I don't want to know. He sounds far too saintly to be even remotely bearable.”

  “If you'd been here, it wouldn't have happened, but you weren't. You were saving the world for Thiede. And yet, ultimately, it was me, along with those close to me, who dealt with Ponclast and his allies. What was your job, Cal?”

  Cal moved round the bed and sat down beside Pell. “My job? To save our son. To try and negotiate with Ponclast. To be there for you when you needed me. They aren't world-saving things, Pell, but significant, nonetheless. You are the world saver, not me.”

  “Our son... where is he?”

  “Safe. I don't know where exactly and I don't want to. It's best for him. This isn't the end, Pell. You do know that, don't you?”

  “Abrimel...” Pellaz said. He wiped a hand over his face. “I just remembered. I saw Abrimel in Fulminir with a harling. What happened, Cal? Did Ash's hara find them?”

  “They found Abrimel,” Cal said, “but no harling. Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes. Completely. That... thing you pulled off me must have taken it.”

  “The charming Diablo. That makes sense. He wasn't found either. Most of the Teraghasts scattered like rats in an opened sewer once the Hashmallim departed. What will you do with Abrimel?”

  Pellaz closed his eyes briefly. “I don't know. Let Tharmifex deal with it.”

  “You've always been such a doting father, haven't you? I take it Rue doesn't know yet.”

  “He's been here a few times, but I didn't mention Bree. I only just remembered about it.”

  “You should have tried to be a father to Abrimel, Pell. Maybe you should show mercy now. I've missed out on a lot with Ty. The puffed-up feelings of pride he inspires in me now sometimes feel like illness! It's most odd, but not unpleasant. He is chesna with Moon. What an incestuous family we are!”

  “Cal...”

  “What?”

  Pellaz drew in his breath. “I had some very bad news today.”

  Cal reached for one of Pell's hands, and Pellaz gripped his fingers tightly. He felt, now he'd made contact, he'd never be able to let go. His eyes filled up. He couldn't help himself.

  “Hey,” Cal said, leaning forward to stroke his face. “How bad can it be? Tell me.”

  “The Grissecon... at the end of it... I went out of myself. I wasn't in control.”

  “I saw that. I called you back. Do you remember?”

  “Yes.” Pellaz locked gazes with Cal. “I wasn't in control. I wasn't aware of it happening. Sheeva, one of the surgeons here, told me a short while ago...”

  “What? Are you hurt?”

  Pellaz felt the tears spill from his eyes. He wouldn't hide them. Perhaps it had always been a mistake to do so. “No... Galdra made me with pearl, Cal. Sheeva could tell from the tests he ran on me to make sure my insides were okay.”

  Cal blanched a little. His eyes widened, but he said nothing.

  “I told you it was bad. Apart from the fact that it's the last thing I ever wanted to do, I wonder what kind of creature might have been created. That place where we were: it was not a good place to create life. There was too much dark flotsam floating about. Weird things.”

  “Have you asked this Sheeva about it? Can't he deal with it?”

  “No. I asked him and he said we don't know enough about our physiology. We are not like women. We can't just get rid...”

  “Oh.” Cal twisted his mouth. “One day, you might have an heir who is non-problematical. What are you going to do?”

  “Ask Sheeva to drug me for the duration? I don't know. Send it to Freygard, maybe. Galdra doesn't know.”

  “Who does?”

  “Just Sheeva. And now you.”

  Cal was silent for some moments. “Well, if you give birth to a monster, most hara would happily believe it was mine. Also, if it resembles its father, it's fortunate you chose a har who looked like me. We've just got back together. We're blissed out, so much in love. We want to make a public statement about that, don't we? We lost a son – as far as everyhar else in concerned. Seems the obvious solution to me.”

  “You'd do that?”

  “Of course. I don't want the Freyhellan having any claim over you. You might think he's a saint, but he's still har, and leader of his tribe. Only an idiot would pass up having that much influence in the Hegemony. If Abrimel's disgraced, and our son is kept in hiding, your pearl is the next in line. How loyal is Sheeva?”

  “Loyal enough not to countenance outside interference in Aralisian matters, I'd say.”

  “Better call him in, then.”

  “Go and find him.”

  Cal stood up, but Pellaz reached for his hand to keep him by the bed. “Cal, I hope we are still in love.” />
  “Course we are. Soul mates. Love that transcends death, space and time. Everyhar knows that. We're a legend.”

  “Galdra was my Terzian. I don't want to deceive you about that. He still it.”

  “I know. But he's not here, and I am. And I will fight for you, Pellaz. I realised that the minute I saw you joined to some har who wasn't me. I was in two minds about coming back here, but now I know. This har I'm in love with, he's not the one I took to Saltrock. He's somehar else. Sometimes, he drives me to distraction, sometimes I could weep for love of him, but I want to get to know him better, regardless.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don't go away. I'll be right back, loyal Sheeva in tow.”

  “No, you don't understand. Thank you.”

  Cal shook Pell's hand a little. “It's OK. Don't go all strange on me. You look mad. Relax.” Cal blew a kiss and went out the door.

  “That's all I ever wanted to hear,” Pellaz said, aloud to the empty room.

  Prisoners in Immanion were confined in the basement of the Hegalion. There were no proper imprisonment facilities, because the Gelaming had no need of them. However, Abrimel har Aralis, traitorous son, had to be held somewhere. The Hegemony had yet to decide his fate.

  Velaxis had been the har to tell Caeru about Abrimel. Fortunately, the parage Katarin was still in Immanion. On the evening that Velaxis arrived with his bad tidings, and Caeru descended into a fit of grief and horror, Katarin was able to offer her support. For hours, the Tigrina ranted that everyhar was mistaken: Abrimel had been bewitched, brainwashed, manipulated. He would not believe Velaxis's calm repetitions of the facts. Abrimel himself had confessed to joining forces with Ponclast. He had no remorse about it. Eventually, Caeru had ordered Velaxis from his presence, and announced their friendship was over. He spent the rest of the night weeping in Katarin's arms.

  The following day, Caeru sent a message to summon Velaxis back to his apartment. Velaxis came at once, and made no mention of the previous evening's events.

  “I want to see my son,” Caeru said. “Can you arrange that?”

  “Of course,” Velaxis said. “I'll accompany you.”

  “Thank you,” Caeru said.

  They rode in a covered carriage to the Hegalion and entered it through a back door, so that nohar saw the Tigrina arrive. Deferential officials, clearly embarrassed by the situation, conducted Caeru and Velaxis to the basement. Here, Abrimel sat on his bed in a small room with no windows. An uneaten meal lay on a table nearby. He looked very ill, his face sunken, his hair matted. Caeru uttered a cry and rushed to embrace him, but Abrimel did not return the gesture.

  “Is it true?” Caeru asked.

  “Yes,” Abrimel said. “I am now a prisoner of war.”

  “Pell will do something,” Caeru insisted. He knelt at Abrimel's feet, his son's limp hands clasped in his own.

  “Do what?” Abrimel asked. He looked over Caeru's head at Velaxis. “Do you know what they intend to do?”

  “No,” Velaxis said. “It hasn't yet been decided. At best, you're looking at some kind of exile, certainly in confinement.”

  “Will the pious Gelaming stoop to execution?”

  Caeru uttered a wail.

  “No,” Velaxis said, “that is more the style of your erstwhile chesnari.”

  “Don't call him that!” Caeru said. “He wasn't that.”

  “He was,” Abrimel said. “We had a son.” He looked at Velaxis again. “Is Ponclast dead? Nohar will tell me.”

  “I don't know,” Velaxis replied. “Pellaz didn't kill him. He was exiled. That's all I can tell you at this point. You won't be seeing him again.”

  “What of our child?”

  “It was not found in Fulminir.”

  Abrimel pulled his hands away from Caeru's hold and put them over his face. He did not weep, perhaps because every last tear inside him had already been wept.

  Velaxis came to Abrimel's side and put a hand on the top of his head. “I'll do what I can, Bree, I promise. Cal will speak for you. You are not without some support.”

  Bree lowered his hands. “I don't want his support!”

  “You're in no position to be fussy about that,” Velaxis said. “Whatever your feelings for Cal, you should know he will always champion those who need his assistance. I'll make sure of it.”

  “I still love you, Bree,” Caeru said. “You are still my son. I don't care what you did.”

  “You're adept at that, I know,” Abrimel said callously. “Anyhar can trample over you, and you'll still come back, tail wagging! I wished you dead. I wished you all dead!”

  Caeru knew he should feel hurt by those words, but all he heard was the bewildered ranting of a child. He took Abrimel in his arms, and kissed his face.

  Abrimel threw back his head and let out a ragged howl. It seemed to go on for ever.

  Caeru kept hold of him, weeping for both of them. He had lost two sons. It was too cruel.

  When they went back out into the sunlight, Velaxis took Caeru's arm. “Let's go for a drink,” he said. “Let's go for a walk.”

  Caeru nodded. “It feels wrong... being free. Vel...?

  “Yes?”

  “Can't anything be done?”

  “He has no remorse, Rue. You have to accept that. Pell treated him with indifference, and this is just the way it's turned out. Nohar could have foreseen this. Nothing can change it. You just have to learn to live with what is.”

  Caeru shook his head. “I should hate Pell for it, but I can't. Why did Bree go this way, Vel? Why did it happen? It didn't have to.”

  “It just did,” Velaxis said. “He made his choices, that's all.”

  “Take me to see him every day, for as long as he's here.”

  “If that's what you want.”

  They went down to the harbour and watched the ships for a while. The Freyhellan fleet had gone. Immanion was peaceful, and felt strangely empty, now all the tribal delegates had left. Hara went about their business as they'd always done. Nohar recognised the Tigrina, standing upon the quay, throwing stones into the water. A breeze came softly from the south, smelling of flowers, even though the leaves were falling from the trees alongside the quay avenue.

  “I can smell the future,” Caeru said.

  Velaxis stood behind the Tigrina and put his arms around him, pressing his hands against Caeru's stomach. “You've lost less than you know,” he said.

  Epilogue

  Galhea looked as if it had been abandoned years before. Forever had been ransacked, presumably by Teraghasts who'd returned to finish off any hara remaining in the area, but at least it was still standing.

  Cobweb walked with Snake through the house, and in every room a hundred memories assailed him.

  “It will be different,” Snake said. “But that will not make it less than it was before.”

  Cobweb stood in the centre of the main living room, where all the long windows were shattered, and took Snake in his arms. “Cobweb is dead,” he said sorrowfully.

  Snake kissed the top of his head: he was so much taller than Cobweb now. “No, he isn't. Far from it.” He began to undo the braid of Cobweb's hair, pulling it out of confinement so it fell around them in a cloudy mass. They shared breath in the dying light, leaves blowing in from the terrace around their feet.

  Swift and Seel came in from the garden; they'd wanted to spend some moments at Ithiel's grave, beneath the cedars by the lake. Swift looked sombre, his eyes were wet.

  “So,” Cobweb said, pulling away from Snake. “Dinner. I'll go and see if Yarrow and Bryony have got the kitchen in any kind of order yet. Swift, scour this house and the town beyond if necessary for alcohol, preferably sheh. Tonight, we celebrate in the ruins. We shout at the future. You'd better be ready for it.”

  Swift smiled a little. “I think I need to be drunk to see beyond the mess and imagine this as a home again.”

  “It will be,” Cobweb said. “Knock down some walls. Build others. Let's change things we'd never have c
hanged before.”

  “I like the idea of a converted attic,” Snake said. “With roof lights to look at the stars. We can sleep there.”

  “Good idea,” Cobweb said. “We've never made use of the attics and they're huge. We'll make new rooms.”

  Cobweb went to the kitchens, wishing he was as optimistic as he'd sounded. In fact, the state of the house depressed him utterly. When he looked at the stairs, in the main hallway, where shards of the fallen chandelier lurked dangerously amid the rubble, he saw Swift coming down to his Feybraiha celebration, so many years ago, a beautiful young har trembling at the brink of maturity. In the kitchen, he saw Ithiel, leaning against the frame of the open back door, and the summer stableyard beyond. When he laid eyes on Yarrow, helping his staff clean up, Cobweb saw a ghost of past festival preparations, pots bubbling on the range, the table piled high with food. Bryony was a human girl again and somewhere upstairs, an interloping har named Cal took aruna with Terzian, who was hopelessly besotted. Some things in the past it was better to forget.